


Dancing Otters and Coral Reefs

by marypoppinsyall



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Recovering, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-10
Updated: 2017-11-10
Packaged: 2019-01-31 09:20:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12678987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marypoppinsyall/pseuds/marypoppinsyall
Summary: Helping Bucky through a panic attack.





	Dancing Otters and Coral Reefs

Gasping.  _Gagging_. Heaving breaths, grasping hands, metal fingers slipping on the lock of the bathroom door before his back crashed against the cool steel. That familiar sharp pain lancing through his chest, each breath laced with needles that tore through the soft tissue of his lungs. His vision swam, but each time he closed his eyes the images that flashed behind them was worse that the nauseating swirl of shapes and indiscernible color his world had become.

“Buck?” Steve’s tight voice accompanied the sharp rapping on the other side of the door. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think- “

“-S’fine…” he choked as a tight hand closed around his throat, involuntarily flinching away from the sound.

It was in his head. It was all in his head. He knew it was, and even if he wasn’t aware of that fact already that was the only thing anyone seemed capable of saying to him anymore. Not that the sentiment helped, none of it did. Not the bullshit breathing exercises his prying therapist made him do every session, or the guided meditation bird-brain had tried take him and an overly supportive Steve through. They didn’t  _get it_. No one did, and they just wouldn’t  _leave him alone._

More knocking.

_Go away Steve…_

“Buck?”

The doorknob jiggled, catching on the constraints he had managed to slide into place before collapsing in a crumpled heap on the floor.

“ _Buck_ …” There was that tone again. Concern, fatigue, hopelessness, with just a trace of irritation he was sure his friend felt guilty about. Bucky  _hated_  it.

He grasped at his chest with his hand, flesh fingers curling and tearing into the fabric of his shirt as his metal hand slipped and slid on the tile floor.

 _“Go…Away…Steve…”_ he heaved as a debilitating contraction tore across his ribcage.

A sigh, rustling of clothing, and then finally, retreating footsteps. He would concern himself with the remorse he knew he would see swimming in his friend’s eyes later. He had been begging him to join them for movie night for weeks. He would explain it wasn’t anyone’s fault, even  _he_  didn’t know what would set him off.

But right now, just  _breathe_.

If he had the ability cry at that moment, he was positive he would have come close as yet another series of light taps entered his mind.  Softer, quieter, less intrusive.

“Bucky?”

It was her.

He felt a faint whisper of relief before crashing back down deep into the hurricane howling in his ears. His mouth gaped open and closed, searching for words, but the only sound that crawled out of his throat was a gargled wheeze. This seemed to be response enough for her, and he felt the vibrations through the door as she settled down on the other side.

He desperately pressed his cheek into the cold surface, the harsh bite welcome against his flushed skin.

One beat of silence, then two. Shuddering pants and sharp gasps.

“I convinced the Bartons to take the kids to the aquarium.”

Blue eyes flew open.

“Wh-what…?” He sputtered.

“The aquarium,” she said casually. “Remember? We went there last month? Tony threw that huge charity gala to benefit their conservation efforts, but you didn’t want to go so I snuck you out and we borrowed a car and drove downtown.”

Warm colors scattered through the harsh, cold fury in his head. A sly grin, sparking eyes, a hot-rod red sports car, no music, just the wind through the open cab of the convertible.

_‘I mean, it’s **for**  the aquarium, I’d rather just  **go**  to the aquarium.’_

“I thought the kids would get a kick out of the otters.” He could hear the smile in her voice, almost feel her warmth radiating through the barrier that separated him. “They’re my favorite.”

Sleek, lithe bodies gliding through the water playfully, twittering squeaks and chirps, fuzzy faces and delighted giggles.

He eased into her narrative, eyelids slipping closed as his hold on his breathing gained strength.

“What was your favorite part?” Her voice held no implication, no rush, no pressure for a response.

He followed her from the pool where the mischievous creatures splashed and wrestled to squeals of laughter, through the tunnel where a pleasant silence had pressed in on his eardrums, watching the fish dart through the water in bright pops of color. Into the main room, a towering behemoth of a tank situated in the center in a swirling mass of dancing anenomies and swift currents.

“…the coral,” he croaked after a moment.

“Really?” He couldn’t help but smile softly at the surprise in her voice.

“Yeah,” he breathed as his eyes cracked open, the image still painted clearly across his sight. “It was… I’ve just never seen that much color in one place before.”

He tried to ignore the poorly-concealed sniffle that sounded seconds later.

Soon the only sounds through the still silence were the steady cadence of his breathing and thumping of his own heart. Blood still whooshed in his ears, but a dull roar in place of a deafening howl.

“Thanks, doll,” he whispered into the space where he knew she would be.

“You’re welcome, Bucky.”

One beat of silence, then two.

She smiled into the dark room when she heard the lock click.


End file.
